Sora no Shukufuku Blessing in the Sky
by ExperimentalWriting
Summary: What is the Blessing in the Sky? A world filled with adventure and romance. If you would like more, you need to comment. Enjoy.
1. Prologue

**Sora no Shukufuku ****空の祝福 ****(Blessing in the Sky)**

**Prologue**

First thing is first: the title. How did I come up with such a generic title as Blessing in the Sky? Well, that's the thing. I didn't really _come_ up with it. I didn't _come_ to it. It didn't _come_ about as a result of loosely assimilated thoughts. It actually just _came_ to me. Literally. The Blessing in the Sky came to me in an instant. A spontaneous, unstoppable, unimaginable, extremely unstable force hit me right in the face. What hit me? The Blessing in the Sky, of course! Isn't that what this story is about? The Blessing in the Sky, right? Well, I bet you're finally wondering to yourself what the specifics of this Blessing in the Sky are? What _is_ it exactly? It's trouble. Don't even bother yourself with it. You'll be truly appreciative if you just follow these few, simple words: stay away from pulchritudinous celestial entities of Japanese origin that offer to accompany you throughout your many so-called adventures of an ideal humanity. In basic terms: run from the Japanese angel!

Okay, I've gotten that off my chest. Now, the story begins. Well, actually, before that, there are a few things that you should put into consideration. The way this story has been written does not abide by the common structures of the fundamental novel. As you will soon realize, the author has indulged himself in creating a light novel. If you truly want to know what a light novel is, then seek its informational value – whether it is via internet, book, article, etc. Though, if you whole-heartedly desire to understand the essence of the light novel, I suggest reading a few yourself. Either that or you can begin your first ever light novel read by taking in this bizarre tale under your wing. Sit, read, and be pulled into a world of beautiful spiritual beings, irritating protagonists, and romance.

Yes, romance.

_Eww! Romanth ith yucky! Bwah! Geth away fram me!_

Well, if you don't like it, then you can just – ! Hey, who let the five-year-old in here? Isn't this supposed to be a private base for me to deliver my many thoughts and works of art?

_Shuth up! You're juth a yucky perthon! Yucky-yuck-yuck!_

Who let this kid in here? And what is with your lisp, little girl? What, did a steamroller run over your tongue or something? Get out of here, brat!

_You're a bith meanie!_

Why did you replace the "g" in "big" with an"s"?

Well, as you can probably tell, the course of this story has already strayed away from the central structure of most novels. How about we just hurry up and begin the stor-

_Don't lithen to him! He'th a bith meanie!_

Stop interrupting me! Security!

_Mwaha! You need thecurity to tayth me away! You can't even do it yourthelf!_

Is there no "k" in your phonetics either?

_What ith that?_

I don't need to explain that to you! Shoo! Shoo! Go somewhere else. My readers are getting impatient. Now, the Blessing in the Sky commences – !

_No, it dothen't!_

I am seriously going to hurt this child.

_You think child abuse is humorous. You're a horrible person._

I never said anything of the sort! And where did your damn lisp go?

_Enjoy the story, everyone! Coming to you from the Netherworld._

Hey, those are my lines!

**End of Prologue**


	2. Sora no Namida Tears of the Sky

**Sora no Shukufuku ****空の祝福 ****(Blessing in the Sky)**

**Chapter One: Sora no Namida****空の涙 ****(Tears of the Sky)**

It is happening again.

Damn, what is going on with me? I always seem to do this whenever I am under the night sky. Okay, maybe not always, but it has been happening often. These numerous occurrences are beginning to stress out my neurons. I mean, I can just feel my brain cells popping one by one. At one moment an innocent brain cell is living life to the fullest, providing its resources at an omnipotent potential. And then, at the next moment, there is just nothingness. Just a nonfunctional remnant of dead matter that sits in your brain until your eventual death. And that's that. Brain cells don't come back, you know. The brain cells we have now are unable to regenerate. It's like every time one sneezes. Did you know that brain cells dies after every sneeze? Maybe you didn't. But it's the truth. And that is it. Those brain cells that left your central neural system are gone forever, never to return to the comfort of their many brain cell family and friends. Quite saddening, isn't it?

Wait, am I babbling about brain cells? This must be the result of the night sky.

Anyway, enough about my brain cells. All that I am trying to state is that whenever I find myself walking leisurely under a night sky – especially a sky like tonight – I suddenly freeze. And I mean literally freeze. I am not exaggerating. This is the real deal. My body temperature dramatically drops at an extremely horrifying rate. I believe I have calculated a two degree (Fahrenheit) drop per second. The spontaneous "frost bite" – as my sister tends to call it – lasts for about a minute or so. But, damn, am I cold!

Here's a description for the more literary: My eyes flutter upon the elegant blackness of the ominous firmament. The night sky is quite the beauty tonight. A black so bold – so powerful – that I am inevitably enveloped into its icy embrace. Amazing, isn't it? The fact that the human eye can detect such a blackness…or that the human brain can interpret such a darkness. It is actually terrifying. My legs, having been in the process of a brisk stroll, immediately lock in place, almost causing my entire body to lose balance. Why? Why does my body respond to the sky in such a manner? Why did I have to look up? Why do I always have to fall to the seductions of my instincts? It is utterly terrorizing. It is, in fact, petrifying. My brain, already becoming accustomed to my body's sudden immobility, does not suffer from overwhelming shock as it used to. Instead, it decides to sit still, rendering the stability of my current mental state tranquil. My eyes continue to stare down the night sky. It is just black. There is no sign of a cloud gliding at a steady pace, slowly coming in to interrupt the date I have with the night sky. Strange. I don't see the moon anywhere either. Maybe it's behind me. My shadow is in front of me, therefore there must be a specific source of light directly to my rear.

Okay, I have to think. How do my frequent "frost bites" usually end? They only last a few minutes, that's for sure. My body temperature will begin to rise at an equally rapid rate – as compared to the drops. And then I will finally be able to walk again, going on my merry way to my room. That's right. I am now in the backyard of my humble abode. The grassy environ sitting behind my middle-class suburban home. And here I am, frozen like an idiot. Why was I even out here, anyway? It is midnight, and I have school in the morning. What am I doing in my backyard? As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything out here. I just rose from my bed and walked out the back door…like a damn idiot! What came over me? Why do I have to constantly subject to myself to such torments and afflictions? I am freezing out here in my boxer shorts. I am not even wearing a piece of garment to cover my torso. What came over me? Wait, didn't I just say that? Who cares? I need to get out of here and back under a temperate, affectionate cotton blanket.

Rage.

Anger consumes reason.

That's right. Anger can drive me. I should just allow anger to take over for a bit. It won't hurt anyone. As long as I am out of this freezing pit of doom. I just need to have anger take control of my body. Anger can definitely help in this situation, and maybe it will raise my body temperature as a bonus. Getting worked up and such. That has to get my body to ninety-eight point six in two seconds flat. Come on, anger. Come to me. Get angry. Allow anger to live. Anger will live and love. Anger will eat and drink. Anger will rip and shred. Anger will steam and boil. Just…get…angry!

My body convulses heavily from the stress put upon my muscles. Anger is straining the bonds of this _freezing_ nightmare and feeing me from the night sky. My pale hands tremble and make an effort to clench into fists. My legs, once again, find life…but only for a second. They moved! My legs moved forward – a tiny step was definitely taken. That is okay. Anger is making progress. My body is finally responding to my mind's will. I am not going to follow orders from the night sky any longer. As long I have anger on my side, I can devour anything.

Convulsions become seizure-like shakes and rattles, and I know I can feel the veins on my forehead pushing and fighting against my skin.

Anger! You can do it! Just win! Win, anger! Just fight and live for me!

And it happens.

I cry.

Oh, that's right. It completely slipped my mind. I always tend to forget this part. I can't believe I forgot such an embarrassing pattern of this behavioral anomaly. Well, the fact that it is embarrassing may be the reason as to why I have avoided the remembrance of said memories.

Now, I am not breaking down and crying like a maniac. Nor am I sniffling like a tuned-up hog-head. I am not that stubborn. It is just that tears are falling. That is basically it. Small droplets of salty liquid are produced from my eyes and slide down my cheeks due to the earth's gravitational pull. It is all just physical. Tears are just dropping down to the grassy fields under my feet. There is no mental or emotional association/tie/link/connection/correlation – or whatever that corresponds to bonding – to my tears. I am not sad. I am really just angry. But even that itself is fading. My anger! My precious anger! All that building! All that nurturing! You're just leaving me like a cheating wife! Where are you going, anger? Just because I am soaking in tears does not mean you have to leave me! No, anger, no!

It's so depressing it's hilarious. I mean, I am not laughing, but I am positive someone out there watching me is. He or she is probably just having a ball on that non-existent cloud, cackling maniacally at my misery. If someone were to actually see me like this, they would see a half-naked, crying teenager freezing in the middle of the backyard of a house under a black sky. Did I mention this teenager was cold?

"Crying is so overrated." I mutter in irritation.

"Sora no namida ga kawaii desu ne." (The tears of the sky are cute, you know.)

Huh?

Okay, if I was frozen before, than I am just a body stuck in ice now. I am not living at this point. Thawing the ice would be pointless, because I would be dead, anyway. I guess, in that circumstance, you could use my body for science. Only after an autopsy, though. I would actually want to know if I died from hypothermia or not. ANYWAY! Back on track…WHAT IN THE &*%$ WAS THAT VOICE?

"Anata wa nani o shite no?" (What are you doing?)

"Obviously, I am frolicking about in my undergarments for a fair time under the chilling night sky." I reply in sarcastic frustration.

Wait a moment. Hold on a minute. Wait up. Hold on. WAIT! WAIT! WAIT! Who am I speaking to? And how did I even understand that gibberish? I don't speak Japanese! How did I know that it was Japanese? WHAT IS GOING O-

"Mou (Geez), you're starting to become annoying. You seriously need to calm down, you know. You can really cause headaches with your little monologues." Interrupted a harmonic voice.

Think, think. This voice can read thoughts. If that is the case, then maybe I am making it up. Maybe I am the voice. I could be producing this voice as a result of unvarying stress and pressure inflicted upon my brain. Becoming frozen like I am now can really put a toll on one's mentality. Am I undergoing a case of dissociative disorder? Split-personality? A rare form of bipolarity? Schizophrenia? Am I now psychologically unstable? Am I going to have Neuroleptics shoved down my fragile throat? I have a gag reflex, you know. That would not be comfortable at all.

"Sou desu ne. (That's right.) You're not frozen, by the way. And, no, I am not a voice in your head. I am an actual physical being with vocal chords. You can just turn around." Again interrupted a soothing, conspicuously female voice.

And I just turn around. It was as simple as that. There was no pause before turning. No add up to suspense or dramatic climax. I just simply turned like any physically able individual can turn.

Hey, I can move now. And I think my tears have dried up.

And, in an instant, my anger completely vanished. All that was left was awe.

"You were beginning to scare me with that whole _hey-I-have-an-idea-how-about-I-let-anger-control-my-livelihood-to-avoid-a-prophesized-moment-in-my-life-like-a-stubborn-human-that-I-am_ bit. So I felt that I should come in to stop you from ruining your life. Mou (Geez), you really are an interesting human, you know that?" said the most irresistibly beautiful woman I had ever seen in the entire seventeen years of my life...EVER.

…W-What?

**Chapter One: Sora no Namida****空の涙 ****(Tears of the Sky)**

**End**


	3. Sora no Haamonii Harmonies of the Sky

**Sora no Shukufuku ****空の祝福 ****(Blessing in the Sky)**

**Chapter Two: Sora no Haamonii****空のハーモニー****(Harmonies of the Sky)**

There are certain moments in an individual's life when one's surroundings cease to exist, and all there is that life has to offer are sounds. Most often, these sounds are not brought about from the many actions that take place in everyday life. Such as the popping of bubble gum, the tap of the foot, the palpitation of a lover's heart, the sighs of the emotional, the sobs of the sentimental, explosions of the detrimental, etc. What regularly produce these sounds are musical instruments. Sure, any true musical genius can create the tuneful resonance from anything – whether it is from the tap of a foot or the knock on the door. But the sounds that I am referring to are those sprung from the melodious instruments, those peculiar apparatus that soothe the soul. The musical instrument is constructed carefully and put under loving consideration. Skillful hands craft such a remarkable invention – an object that can very well change a life. The violin, the cello, the classical piano, the electric piano, the acoustic guitar, the electric guitar, the bass, the oboe, the flute, the clarinet, the saxophone, the trumpet, the trombone, the –

You know, there really is no point in cataloguing every musical instrument in existence. I am just going to get right to what I want to say.

As I mentioned before, there are those particular moments in one's life in which the sounds of a musical instrument are solely heard. The experience can be revolutionary, mind-bending, and maddening at the same time. Imagine being absorbed into a world of silence. Complete and utter silence. Nothing can be heard or felt. You are now profoundly deaf…or so you think. Because, all of a sudden, the slow reverberation of tightly wound hair sliding across a string envelopes you into a world of magnificence. A world of luxury. The sounds become sharp and increasingly powerful. This is the viola. The classical piano aids the viola in cradling you into its arms, gradually lulling you into a state of surrealism. The harp comes in. Fingers pull each string in perfect synchronicity.

And then the flute comes in.

The flute generates a sound so wonderfully giddy and euphoric that you find tears streaming down your cheeks. The harmonious sounds brought to life by these instruments are too great. Too awesome and omniscient! Omniscient in the sense that they understand how to take control of your entire being.

So imagine if you were brought into this world. Would your sanity remain?

"Kimi no oto ga yasashii desu ne. Honto ni kirei desu." (Your sounds are gentle, you know. They are really beautiful.)

A sweet smile spreads across an Angel's luscious lips.

"Arigatou." (Thank you.)

And I wake up.

The first thing I see when I wake up is the familiar wooden tiled ceiling of my room. The first thing I do is bring my right hand up to my face. The first thing I realize is that my face is wet.

The first thing I say is "Tears."

Wiping my tears away, I groggily sit up in my messy bed. I look around my room, and notice that nothing seems to be out of place except for my shoes sprawled out on the floor. That's strange. I am usually very organized. I always make sure to neatly place my shoes at the edge of my bed after school. That way I can easily find them before heading out for whatever activities I need to partake in. Well, whatever. The fact that my shoes are not where they are supposed to be isn't too unsettling. I guess what might be more unsettling is how cold I am right now. It seems I just slept in my boxer shorts.

"Achoo!" I sneeze. "Oh, I better not be sick. That will be so bothersome."

"I'd imagine so. Nobody finds it pleasant to be sick." Responds a lovely voice beside my right ear.

I immediately jump from my bed and whip around in shock.

"W-Who are you?" I stutter in fright.

Yeah, that's right. I am scared. I mean, who wouldn't at least be a bit frightened? You wake up with tears having streamed down your face, notice something out of place in your room, and then hear an unrecognizable voice breathily whispering into your ear. Come on. That has to produce some chills. And don't even get me started with what I see in front of me.

Now, one fact needs to be registered. My bed is pretty big. It is a queen sized bed in the middle of a fairly large room. I am spoiled, I admit. I have been raised in the most economically superior country (United States of America) in the most economically superior state of the country (California) in one of the most economically superior cities in Southern California (Orange County). I have been spoiled silly ever since I was adopted into a financially stable household (I was at the age of three at the time). Anyway, enough about my adoption! Time to start describing what my eyes have spotted in my front. Isn't that what you have been waiting for?

An Asian woman with porcelain white skin sits on my queen sized bed. She looks considerably young – maybe along the lines of twenty-one to twenty-five years of age. Silky black hair hangs down below her waist. She is lean and well-toned. Voluptuous legs are wrapped around my scattered blankets, as if she has been sitting there on my bed for some time now. Wait. Has she been sitting there on my bed this entire time? How did I not notice her? How did I miss this wonderful piece of art right next to me? Scratch that! Why is this exquisitely-sculpted woman sitting in my bed in the first place?

"Nani yo?" (What is it?) The voluptuous woman mutters, repeatedly switching her gaze from me to her own body. "Do I look off-putting?"

Speaking of off-putting, what is going on with her outfit? The Asian woman is wearing an elaborately decorated garment that is oddly pleasing to the human eye. A purple East Asian dress is worn tightly on the woman's physically attractive body. Yeah, I am using the words "physically attractive body". That is just how I am able to describe her. She is pulchritudinous.

Wow, I am such a nerd.

"I actually find it quite charming. But you don't have to keep focusing on my body. I have a face as well, you know." The pulchritudinous woman pouts.

Stunned, I say "You can read my mind?"

And then I see it.

Her face.

How can I put this? This woman has a gorgeous face. Her high cheek bones and full lips complement her white skin so well it is startling. Nicely thin eyebrows hover over her mesmerizingly brown eyes. Her eyes are interestingly serene. Something about the hazel in her eyes speaks to me. What are her eyes saying to me? Kiss…me? Is that right? Is that what I'm seeing? Kiss…me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Hurry up, will you? Just do it. Kiss me.

Kiss me.

My body moves on its own. On instinct, I bring myself closer to this beautiful woman and near my lips towards hers.

The next thing I know, I am scuffling on the ground holding my groin.

"That hurts!" I groan painfully, trying to withstand the excruciating searing on my testicles.

Oh, if you haven't figured it out by now, I am male. So you can probably guess how strikingly tortuous it must feel to have my ball sack kicked at a force so authoritative it is tear-jerking. Literally tear-jerking.

"How many…gah…times do I have to cry…geh…today? Oh, man…that hurts." I choke out in suffering.

"Mou! (Geez!) Ima, nani sore datta? (What was that just now?) What exactly were trying to accomplish? Going in for the kiss so suddenly. What kind of pervert are you?" marks the Asian woman standing over me, her hands resting firmly on her hips.

[INPUT PICTURE OF ANGEL HERE]

"You're…geh…the one who told me to kiss you. Well, your eyes did…gah…at least."

What am I saying? Her eyes told me to kiss her? I must be some kind of mentally unstable pervert.

Unexpectedly, the woman's face goes from irritation to concern. "My eyes…told you to kiss me?"

The woman pounces on top of me and grabs at my face, squeezing my cheeks together. Her hands become wet from making contact with the tears that have drenched my face.

"What did my eyes say exactly? Tell me now!" The pretty Asian woman demands.

"They were telling…geh…no, _commanding_ me to kiss you!" I sputter out through squeezed cheeks. "Now, let go me of, you crazy woman!"

"Not yet. You haven't told me what my eyes actually said!"

"Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Hurry up and do it. Something like that." I comply in response. "Now, please, let go of my aching face."

I notice that, after every "Kiss me." that I had spurted out, the woman's eyes became wider and wider. They are now staring at me with a face that says "Oh, #$&*."

Finally letting go of my head, she slowly walks over to the edge of my bed and plops herself on my sheets.

"Sou desu ka?" (Is that so?) The catatonic woman asks. "Hmm…Omoshiroi desu ne." (Interesting, isn't it?)

That's another thing. Why can I understand this woman when she speaks Japanese? I have never even spoken – let alone understood – Japanese with the exception of the usual touristy "Konnichiwa" (Good Afternoon) and "Sayonara" (Goodbye). Every time she speaks Japanese, it feels as if I am reading English subtitles at the bottom of the screen. But the subtitles are in my head. It is something only I can see. It pretty hard to explain, I guess.

"It's called basic language learning, Sherlock Holmes. I've just given you the ability to read, write, speak and listen to the Japanese language. I can give you another language to learn, if you want." says the woman, looking at me with a sweet smile.

"What are you talking about? And why do you keep reading my mind? Who are you, anyway? What are you doing in my room?" I look up at the clock hanging on one of the walls of my room. "Oh, geez, I need to go to school!"

I jump to my feet and stumble. That's right. I haven't really gotten over the pain in my pelvis just yet. It seriously hurts. I could have died. Did you know that males can actually die from impalement of the testicles? One kick and game over, man. We males have such a vulnerable area below the waist. A kick to the groin could cause sterilization of a male's reproductive system. So you can also say goodbye to ever having your own children.

Lobbing on one foot, I grab my beige shorts and white collared shirt. As I am dressing, I find Miss Universe staring at me in observation.

I reach for my tennis shoes. "What is it?"

"I-ie. (N-no.) Sono...(That…) I mean, that kind of reaction. I wasn't expecting you to be so easy-going."

"Easy-going? That's a laugh. I am as freaked-out as you might have perceived me to be, right now. But I just do not have the time to bother with any of this. I need to hurry up and go to school."

That reminds me, did my sister leave without me? She usually wakes me up and accompanies me to school.

"I had her leave without you. I couldn't have her interrupt our second encounter." Says the Asian woman.

"Oh, did you?" I say, adjusting my red tie. "Wait, what? Second encounter?"

And then it hits me.

The memory is vague, but I can remember, at around midnight, I was standing in the backyard, once again frozen by the night sky. I was just standing there like an idiot, freezing my butt off. And then I heard Japanese words and saw…

I stop. "You. You were in my backyard at midnight!"

Okay, I am getting scared again. Who is this woman? Why was she at my house? Why is she now in my room? Why is she dressed so exotically? Why did I just try to kiss her? How is she able to read my mind? How did she send my sister away? Am I actually fluent in the Japanese language? What does Japan have to do with all this? This is California, right? Why do I keep asking the same questions? Why am I not heading out the door for school right now?

The Asian woman inhales exaggeratedly. "I am now going to answer all of your questions in one go. Ready? Ikou. (Let's go.) I am an Angel from the Netherworld. I am here at your house because I have been assigned to look after you specifically, and I just ended up in your backyard after I saved you from allowing anger to take over your life. I am in your room right now because you lost consciousness after seeing me for the first time. So I brought you to your room and watched over you until you woke up."

"I-I fainted?"

"Sou. (That's right.) And don't interrupt. To continue answering your questions, I am dressed in this way because this is my favorite outfit. In this modern society, it may seem exotic. Therefore, I do not blame you for finding it strange. In the Netherworld, every angel of my kind wears his or her favorite outfits. I guess you can say what we wear defines who we are, which is similar to the human mindset on Earth. All Angels have the telepathic ability to read human minds, just not the minds of other Angels and Demons. One of the abilities that an Angel of my kind has obtained over the years is invisibility. When your sister arrived at the foot of your room, ready to wake you up as she is accustomed to do so, she did not find you lying in your bed. This is due to the fact that I had used an invisibility charm to cloak the two of us in your room. She probably came upon the conclusion that you had left for school without her. And, yes, you are actually fluent in Japanese. Try it out." The magnificently beautiful woman announces. "Japan does not particularly have involvement with the current circumstance. And I am not Japanese either. As an Angel, I am in no way, shape, or form related to any nationality, race, or creed originating from Earth. Angels actually communicate with their eyes. It is comparable to telepathy but without the ability to read each other's minds. Personally, I fell in love with the Japanese language, so I choose to use it when communicating with humans. Hence, I am mostly stationed in the Land of the Rising Sun. I have given you the ability to understand fluent Japanese because I tend to speak Japanese subconsciously. Also, yes, we are currently in the area known as Southern California. Now, I have answered most of your questions. And it seems you are going to be late for school."

….Uh.

That is a lot take in. Well, might as well give it a try.

"Hito ni wa, mayoi to kurushi minomoto dearu bonnou ga aru." (People have worldly passions which lead them into delusions and sufferings.) I blurt out automatically.

Wow. I can actually speak fluent Japanese.

In order to avoid further cognitive dissonance, "Dewa (Well, then), I'm late for school. Goodbye."

And, just like that, I race out of the house, leaving the extremely beautiful Japanese Angel sitting in my room. I really needed to get out of there. A lot of information was just shot at me with a twelve-gauge shotgun. My head feels like it is about to implode any second now.

But something else is bothering me. The Japanese Angel did not answer one of my questions.

Why did I try to kiss her?

**Chapter Two: Sora no Haamonii****空のハーモニー****(Harmonies of the Sky)**

**End**


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